


song for a winter's night

by bettycooopers



Series: twelve days of barchie [10]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Post 2x09, archie can't sleep and betty can't stop dreaming, pre 2x10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:14:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28424547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bettycooopers/pseuds/bettycooopers
Summary: The week between Christmas and New Year’s, Archie Andrews doesn’t sleep. On December 30th, Archie’s sitting up in bed with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and his guitar in his lap when he hears his phone buzzing. It's Betty.
Relationships: Archie Andrews/Betty Cooper
Series: twelve days of barchie [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2066289
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	song for a winter's night

**Author's Note:**

> day ten! a little post 2x09, pre 2x10 moment that could have been. is this canon now? idk, maybe.
> 
> thank u next to my breakdown buddy, [becca](https://archiveofourown.org/users/packedyoursaturday), who legitimately explains how human emotions work to me on a daily basis. much appreciated, bud.

The week between Christmas and New Year’s, Archie Andrews doesn’t sleep. 

He tries. He turns all the lights off, puts white noise on, lays under the covers with his eyes closed, and still, sleep won’t come. He tosses and turns, tugs his pillow over his face, squeezes his eyes closed tight until he feels like his head is going to implode. 

The problem is that every time he shuts his eyes, it’s too dark. He sees the inside of the coffin, hears the dirt spilling over the top, smells the earth seeping through the cracks. He tries to stay at Veronica’s one night and winds up leaving around 1:30, sending her a text to let her know he had to head home, not really giving a reason why. He comes up with something in the morning.

On December 30th, Archie’s sitting up in bed with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and his guitar in his lap when he hears his phone buzzing. He sets the guitar down on the bed over the notebook he’s been scribbling in and grabs his phone, rubbing his eyes and yawning as he squints down at the screen. Betty. He sighs and opens the text, peering over at his window before he reads it. 

_ ‘Your light is on. Awake?’  _

He nods, then realizes she can’t see him. They haven’t talked much since everything happened – since they’d clung to each other on the bridge, after everything, his lips too close to hers to call it an accident. Hours later, he’d gotten back together with Veronica. He tries not to think too hard about that part. He chews on the inside of his cheek, sending back,  _ ‘Yeah. You too?’ _ and then leaning back against his pillows. His phone buzzes in his hand.  _ ‘Nightmare.’  _ and then,  _ ‘You staying up?’ _

Archie yawns as he types,  _ ‘Forever, maybe. Backyard?’  _ Betty responds quickly as Archie’s already slipping on a sweatshirt,  _ ‘Five minutes.’  _

He slips his phone into his pocket and pulls on thick socks, then slides on his slippers and heads quietly down the stairs. Betty’s already outside, her fuzzy pink pajama pants sticking out from under her puffy black jacket and into her boots. Her hair is down, poking out a bit at the edges, snow clinging to the pieces around her face. 

He smiles softly as he makes his way over to her, snow crunching under his slippers, and sighs as she wraps her arms around his waist, pressing her head against his chest. “You’re okay?”

“Betty,” he chuckles, but his throat feels tight. “Of course, I’m okay. I’m right here.” He rubs her back softly as he feels her let out a slow breath, the palm of his hand making squeaky little sounds against the fabric of her jacket. “You...you alright?”

“M’fine,” she answers, and it’s too quick to be true.

“Betty,” he says, his voice low and firm. “You know you can tell me what’s...what’s going on, right? After everything, I,” he sighs, leaning his face down into her hair, pulling her tighter against him. “I hope you know you can tell me.”

“I know,” her voice is quiet, muffled by his sweatshirt. “I just...I’m fine, Arch. I’m fine ‘til I go to sleep.” He sighs, nodding. “I just keep...I keep seeing it, you know? You...in,” she shakes her head against his chest, “but you’re fine. You’re  _ fine,  _ I can see that.”

“I’m fine,” he nods, holding onto her and listening to her breathe. They stay quiet for a long few moments before he sighs out a breath. “I can’t sleep,” he mumbles against the top of her head. “I’m sure if I could sleep, we’d be in the same boat, dream-wise.” He feels Betty pull away from him and squints down at her as she takes a step back, crossing her arms.

“What do you mean you can’t sleep?”

“I’m…,” he runs a hand through his hair. “I’m just...I can’t. I try, every night, and I can’t.” Betty tilts her head and he frowns. “I close my eyes and I...I can’t. I don’t know,” he shakes his head. “I must sleep a little. I’m not dead or anything.” He hears Betty suck in a breath and realizes what he said, shutting his eyes and wrapping his arms back around her, pulling her against him. “I’m not dead. I’m okay, Betts.” She nods, her fingers digging into his back.

“You need to sleep,” she murmurs, her voice soft. He can barely hear her, but he feels the vibrations of her words against his chest. “I’m serious, Archie.”

“I know, Betty,” he uses her name in a deeper tone, and he feels her laugh. He rubs her back. “I’m trying.”

“Try harder,” she mumbles, and he laughs into her hair.

Her hair smells the same as it did  _ that night  _ and he inhales deeply before letting out a slow, relaxed breath. He tries not to let himself notice he hasn’t felt quite this calm since she’d had her arms wrapped around him, her hands pressed to his cheeks, holding his face and ignoring the fact that his tears were dripping onto her palms. Even covered in dirt, crying for reasons he didn’t fully understand, he’d felt like he was safe with her fingertips pressing into his skin. “I’ve been busy,” he mumbles, his voice thicker, sleepier than before. He yawns against the top of her head.

“Archie,” he can feel her frown and he shakes his head. 

“I’ve been writing songs,” he clarifies. He feels her straighten up a bit, but her arms are still tight around him. “That’s all.”

“Are they good ones?” He lets out a soft laugh. “I don’t wanna hear ‘em if they’re not,” he feels her poke him in the side and he shakes his head. 

“All bad,” he mumbles, a chuckle in his throat. “Sleep deprived and sad, the whole bunch.” Betty sighs, tilting her head up and he looks down at her, his eyes bleary. “I think they’re okay,” he shrugs.

“I can’t wait to hear them,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. He nods. “I don’t think I’m going back to sleep tonight,” she looks away, down at the snow under their feet, then back up at him, “but m’cold. You want to call me...and we can...not sleep together?”

Archie swallows, nodding. “We can not sleep,” he chuckles, lifting his cold hand and pushing the hair off her face lightly with his fingers, “I like that.” She steps away from him and he grabs her hand. “I’ll walk you to your door.”

“Arch,” she chuckles, but doesn’t protest. He rubs his thumb over hers, shaking his head as they walk to the side of her house. She looks down at their hands as they stop at her side door and he swallows, keeping his eyes on her face. “You’ll call me?” He nods. Betty yawns. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Archie breathes, and he can see his breath floating between them. The Christmas lights on the side of the Cooper house twinkle, and he swallows as he feels himself lifting his hand, grabbing Betty’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, and tilting her face up.

He closes the gap between them and kisses her softly, his lips light against hers. She goes rigid for less than a second before leaning into him, one of her hands pressed to the side of his head. He pulls back after a long moment and then kisses her once more, chastely, before taking a step back. 

“Night, Betty,” he breathes, his eyes on her lips.

Betty blinks at him, her voice far away as she murmurs, “Night, Archie.”

He doesn’t turn back until he hears the side door to the Cooper house pull shut, and he can only see her shadow through the window pane. He makes his way back to his own house, locking the side door and heading back up the stairs, settling himself back in his bed before he grabs his phone out of his pocket and calls Betty, lying back against his pillows as he hears her soft voice over the line. 

“Hey stranger,” she laughs, her voice sleepy in his ear.

“Hey,” he chuckles. He can already feel his eyes getting heavy as he listens to her breathe.

It’s the first night he sleeps all week long.

**Author's Note:**

> you can follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/bettycooopers) or [tumblr](https://bettycooopers.tumblr.com) if you feel like watching me break down in real time!


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